A/N: Welp.
So this will be the end, then.
In all honesty, I wasn't all that surprised to hear that Series 5 will, in fact, be the last series of Merlin to ever air, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. I'm glad that they aren't pushing the show beyond its bounds, dragging it out to every last penny, 'jumping the shark', as you may know the phrase, teasing it out until it becomes unbearable. I've known for a while that it was always planned to be a 5-series show, so it's nice that they're sticking to that. But It's so… final. And that's kind of sad. Especially because, with only 5 episodes left, they have a lot of ground to cover and a lot of promises to keep and a lot of fans who will be sorely disappointed if they aren't the most stunningly, amazingly perfect episodes known to mankind. Which, of course, they won't be. (come on ,this is Merlin we're talking about – the writers never seem to be on the same page with each other, let alone with the fans) And that makes me sad. But I'm going to hope for something nice, something that will make the bittersweet ending a tad more sweet than bitter, something to tie up the show nicely.
Merlin was never a perfect show, and it won't be when it wraps up. In fact, it was flat-out cheesy when it started, embarrassingly so, at times. It's been criticized and downgraded for its many issues when it comes to plot, acting, CGI, predictability, and inconsistency. But for all it's flaws, for all the questions left unanswered, character relations left by the wayside, and the many, many inconsistencies within the stories it's told over the years, this gem of a show will always be special and wonderful because of its characters and the message they have to tell.
Love, deep enough to forgive even when it's hard
Mistakes, how to make them and how to get up afterward.
Laughter, at each other and ourselves.
Bravery, in the glamorous and not-so-glamorous battles we face.
Loyalty, even when you want to run away.
Doing what's right, even when the lines are blurry.
And above all, an unrelenting, unshakable, life-defining refusal to ever, ever lose hope. Because some day, things will be put to rights.
And that just kind of makes me smile. So I'll take it, flaws and all, to the very end, and clap when it's over, because it's been a lovely five years, and the heart of this show, while not always what we want, will always be what we love: imperfect, lovely humans, who've somehow made the world a better place to be.
SERIES 5 NEWS RANT OVER.
I'm sorry I haven't updated this story in so long. Life's been pretty hard of late. Especially this past week. I won't go into details, but these last two weeks of school are killing me with stress. On Thursday morning, I actually passed out, apparently because of stress and dehydration. So now on top of everything, I'm paranoid about randomly konking out again and have been chugging water like no one's business in an attempt to stave off further dehydration.
Writing has always been a bit of a stress reliever for me. I figured I might as well work on this chapter. Hopefully it will answer some of your questions about last chapter – I know I got several people scratching their noggins about what was said last chapter, and more than one person nagging me about my flawed time-travel theory. Mind you, it's mostly flawed because the character's perception of what's going on is flawed. All in good time. Hopefully when I wrap this story up, it will make sense.
In the meantime, enjoy this new chapter!
"But we're not changing anything," Merlin said to himself, a deep grimace in place as sat at an empty desk, fiddling with the empty bottle of his medicine. From behind him, King Arthur heaved a sigh.
"Merlin, that is the fifth time you've said that this evening, and this will be the fifth time I ask you: what's wrong?" He looked only partially invested in the question, and was mindlessly polishing a dagger by the fire. They were back in Merlin's quarters in the castle, away from Gaius and their younger selves.
"Well, it's just that we're not changing anything," Merlin said, turning.
"That'll be six," He said, tossing an exasperated look into his dagger. Merlin huffed and settled into his chair, a frustrated squiggle settling between his eyebrows.
"Look, what I said before, about making new worlds, all that, I was wrong."
"Yes," Arthur goaded, looking at his reflection.
"Which is good. But now the fact that we really aren't changing anything… it doesn't make any sense."
"How do you mean?"
"For one, you and I still don't remember being here before. We should. Unless something incredibly drastic happens with our memory – not out of the question, mind you - we should remember meeting our older selves – you and I – now. Or, then, if you prefer."
"Not that that's confusing at all," Arthur remarked sarcastically. Merlin ignored him.
"Also, how are we not changing anything? I've blown so many secrets this past week, I'm surprised I haven't given myself nightmares yet."
"Well maybe it's like you said," Arthur put away his dagger and looked over at Merlin. "You know some memory-wiping spells, don't you? Perhaps you just end up wiping all our memories and all those slipped secrets will just right themselves."
Merlin pursed his lips. "Maybe, but…" He scoffed. "For one, that'd take immense power – focused power, that I'm not even sure I could conjure all at once. It be next to impossible." Merlin sighed, deeply troubled. "It doesn't make any sense." He bit on his forefinger, glancing around as if something in his bedchambers would give him the answer.
"On that note," Arthur put in, suddenly thoughtful as well, "if we're not changing anything, what does that mean for Morgana?"
"Yes, I'd thought of that."
"And?"
"I haven't the slightest idea."
"Right. Is it possible, she isn't changing anything, either?"
It took a moment for Merlin to answer. "I'm not sure." He turned fully toward Arthur. "Whatever happens now, whatever we do or don't do here obviously doesn't affect anyone in Camelot from the past – from now. But you and I… We're fair game, Arthur."
Arthur's face fell. "What?"
"You and I, and Morgana, we're the part of the equation that doesn't add up. The only reason I know we must not be changing anything in the past is because I know the future of this time – our past. What I remember. What I know. And when I see continuity between now and the future of now that I remember because I lived through it, I know it must still remain intact."
Arthur stared at him for a moment, thinking, but eventually nodded. "Alright,"
"But I don't know our future – I don't know if you and I get back to our own time, I don't know if either of us gets hurt, or killed, or when, or why, or anything. For all I know, you and I could easily fall by Morgana's hand now, in the past."
Arthur was shaking his head. "But you said we weren't changing anything. That means we can go home."
"In so much as it means we're not trapped in some alternate dimension, separated from our own world by a space-time splice with an ever-widening chasm of void in between us, yes, Arthur, we can go home. But that doesn't mean we will. Morgana could get to us before then, if we're not careful, if we can't figure out the rest of Eoran's puzzle before Morgana does."
"But… you said we weren't changing anything."
"No, not in the lives of Arthur, Merlin, Gaius, Uther… but our own futures aren't set in stone."
There was a silent pause after that. Arthur's face formed a deep frown. "But… we must have some future," Arthur said, "just as real to you and I as we are to Merlin and Arthur, even if we can't see it. And if that's true, then… why isn't our future set in stone?"
Merlin frowned, and stared. Arthur stared back. A thousand explanations, questions, thoughts ran through Merlin's head, and eventually condensed themselves into a single comment, and that comment solidified itself in his throat, but just as he drew breath, the door opened and Younger Merlin poked his head in.
"Sorry," He said sheepishly when identically intense expressions turned to greet him, "But I'm done sanding down the staff, like you said," He brought out the elder wood, now smooth and straight, if not a bit plain. "What should I do with it now?"
"Ah," Older Merlin rose, brain changing gears immediately. "We'll need to charge it, then. Put some magic into it. It can't hold much without a core, but so long as you and I are the only ones who use it, it won't need to. Still, it's nice to have a bit of a jump handy. Never know when the urge will strike."
Young Merlin frowned. "Urge?"
Older Merlin said nothing, but turned to look curiously at Arthur. More specifically, at the back of Arthur's head. The king sighed, face a bit more longsuffering than Younger Merlin was used to seeing it.
"Right then, you two get your urges under control, and I'll go and sort a hiding place for this club of yours, shall I?"
"I had thought we might entrust it to Gaius until we need it," Younger Merlin said. His older self shook his head. "A bit obvious, should Morgana get any ideas. We'd dismissed that idea, but hadn't thought of any others – but have you, Arthur?"
"I have. But he'll need a good talking to beforehand."
Older Merlin cocked an eyebrow, but the king merely shook his head. "I'll let you know," he said, and let himself out.
Shortly, Arthur found himself, but not exactly in the way the older one had been intending.
"Still spying on Morgana, then," The Prince didn't sound very surprised, or amused. King Arthur jumped and spun on the spot. He had been watching Morgana, it was true, because she'd just walked past. But he hadn't been spying on her. Not really.
"Looking for you, actually," Arthur said with pronounced authority. Authority which, it seemed, did nothing when exerted on his younger self.
"But you admit you were spying."
"Why on earth would I do that?"
"I could ask you the same question."
Arthur stared at him, at himself, hard. He grit his teeth and looked away. "I need to talk to you."
"About Morgana?"
"No, something else. But not here. Your rooms are empty this time of day, aren't they?"
When they reached Arthur's quarters, the prince shut the doors behind them.
"What is it you want?"
"I need a favor. No, we need a favor of you."
"What's that?" Arthur had his arms crossed.
"We need you to… keep something. Safe. Just a for a little while."
"What 'something'?"
The king's mouth twitched. "A staff."
"Oh, a staff," Prince Arthur said acidly, "you don't mean that sodding stick Merlin brought back yesterday, do you? The one he got from a tree, which must have been some miles away to be gone all day. Or was it something different that they were doing, what with lightning strikes and getting the pronunciation wrong, whatever the hell that means."
"Arthur,"
"Oh! Or is it something you swiped from my father after you've been stalking his ward for the past week, god knows why, or did you take it from beneath Geoffrey's nose whilst studying magic in his archives?"
"Arthur,"
"Yes, Arthur. Let's have it, then, Arthur. What staff is it we're talking about? And why do I need to keep it anywhere, much less anywhere safe? Because I'm dying to hear an explanation."
The silence could have been cut with a knife while King Arthur wrestled with his mouth, and Prince Arthur stared at him in challenge. How Arthur could be this mad and this frustrated and this scared of himself was beyond his grasp.
"Arthur… you really don't want to know."
The prince snapped. "I do want to know, damnit!" And the king flinched at his own voice. "That's all I've been told, for two weeks. Don't ask. You don't want to know. Forget I said that. Forget you saw that. No need to tell Arthur, he won't notice when you go off all day to get a stick, he won't notice when you all gather at Gaius' to plan lord knows what without his knowledge, he won't notice when you spy on Morgana, he won't notice when Merlin won't give him a straight answer, he won't notice when we start studying magic! He's too stupid, he won't know, he won't care, he won't want to know. But I do, I do want to know."
"Even if you do, I don't think you'll like it,"
"I don't remotely care if I'll like it, I want to know."
The King shook his head, almost bashfully. "I don't think you'll understand."
The Prince glared hard before he pressed on, rage making his quieted voice shake, "If you really are me, if you really are my future, you should know damn well what my answer is to that pack of lies." The King shot him a sideglance. Of course he knew. The Prince let him know anyway, with low ferocity in his voice. "Try me."
King Arthur tipped his head and regarded himself, his younger self, in all his high-strung temper and frustration. He knew painfully well how arrogant he used to be, how presumptuous and undiplomatic. But he also knew that this younger Arthur was desperate for honesty. He'd been starved from the truth since birth, even if he didn't know the full scope of it yet. And although speaking tasted like vinegar, Arthur knew it's what his younger self craved.
"Fine." He looked the prince in the eye. "Yes, the staff is what Merlin was fetching yesterday. Yes, it's from a tree that's hours away, in the Valley of the Fallen Kings, actually. We need you to protect it because it's a magic staff, far too powerful in the wrong hands. It's our ticket back to our own time. As for Morgana," the king's voice hitched on itself, because she was his sister, and he was talking to himself. "she might not be quite what you think, anymore, and needs an eye on her to be safe."
The prince's reaction was stoic. He looked, and only looked, and didn't say anything for a long while.
"That's not the whole truth, is it?"
The King looked down at him. "I'm afraid it'll never be that easy. It never should."
"Not even from myself?" He seem angry.
"Especially not from yourself," the king retorted. "If you truly value finding the truth, then perhaps you ought to hunt it down, go alongside it, and try to understand with more than your short temper."
"And how am I supposed to do that," The prince snapped, "when it's all being deliberately hidden from me?"
The King's eyes shot down to the ground, and a ringing silence took over. When Arthur looked up, he looked apologetic. "I can only say that I'm sorry on that front." He shook his head. "It's a knee-jerk reaction with you, I'm afraid."
"To lie to me."
"To hide from you." He said. "For good reason, usually. You're a Pendragon."
The Prince started to speak again, but caught himself and gauged his next comment.
"This is about the magic, isn't it?" He said, deliberately calming his tone. "I've been… thinking about it, you know. I'm not… I'm not some animal about it. It's alright that there's magic." He was surprised when King Arthur smiled, very bitterly, and nodded.
"And I'm glad to hear it. But it's not just magic, Arthur. If only it were ever just magic, our life would be so much simpler." He looked up, and his eyes were old and sad. "But it's always been more than that. It will never be so simple for you. If it was ever just the magic, do you really think our father would have fought it so ferociously for so long?"
Prince Arthur seemed utterly baffled. "But… all this…secrecy, it's about magic, isn't it?" He'd prepared a speech about his own willingness to cooperate, to understand. And now, his older self was saying it wasn't enough.
The king sighed heavily, and his whole chest fell a bit. "Arthur," he said, quietly, "one day, possibly sooner for you than I can remember, you will begin to learn things. Horrible, wonderful things, about everything you've ever believed to be true. And yes, magic has to do with every last one of them." The prince's eyes were growing alarmed. "But you have to be ready to face it, to take it all, and sort through the misconstrued connections and disconnections. You have to be able to differentiate between good and bad where it's hard to see, or else end up just like our father,"
"Our father?" Prince Arthur sounded hurt.
Older Arthur send him look of complete understanding. "Haven't you ever wondered why magic is evil? Why it wasn't evil before Uther became king over Camelot?" He watched as the prince's brain started to run faster. "I know from what you've said, Arthur, you've considered the possibility that magic might be able to be good," the king said, and the prince's eyes shot up to look at him, as though he wasn't quite sure he'd say the same about himself. Older Arthur continued, "but have you ever wondered why you never thought that way before now? Did you ever consider that some pain is easier to bear scapegoated onto another, even if it is another entire race?"
The Prince was only staring, now, too scared and too caught up in his thoughts to respond.
"The truth is deep, and hard, Arthur," The king said, but added soon after, "And it is worth it. Skies above, is it worth it. But not all at once. Not now. You have to come alongside, and by god, you have to be ready to listen, to understand him."
The prince frowned suddenly. "Him?"
The king's face made an odd expression as he realized his mistake. He rebounded by pretending he hadn't heard the prince's query. "And you can start now by keeping this staff safe. Answers will come of it, I promise. No more hiding, if I can help it."
They shared a deep look, a look that, at a later date, Arthur would never be able to describe, because it was simultaneously a self-understanding and an inescapably moving interaction with another person entirely. At the end, when their gazes moved away from one another, the prince nodded.
"I understand."
The king gave a microscopic smile. "You're starting to."
Morgana was beginning to grow restless. She'd been playing her role as dumb royal ward far too well the past days, and it was beginning to grate on her. Her scrying had been utterly fruitless on all counts, save for one afternoon when she'd seen both Merlins walking back to Camelot from the wood, the older one with a walking stick of some kind. It looked freshly-cut. But she hadn't thought much of it until that night, when she passed him holding the same walking stick, but sanded down to a smooth sheen. Older Merlin held it easily as he headed for Arthur's rooms, and Morgana would have thought nothing of it if she hadn't been able to sense its magic.
It rolled off the staff in waves, humming to her. She'd sucked in a breath when she felt it, and had to give a silly excuse to Gwen when the maid had asked.
Somehow, some way, they had found one. They had found a hugely powerful magical artifact, beyond anything hidden away in Camelot's vaults. How, Morgana wasn't sure. But she was positive they knew what they were doing with it, she was positive it was their Key. It was her time to act, before her tools could escape under their own volition. She waited until Gwen had left her chambers dark and quiet before she reached beneath her bed and pulled out the mirror. She waved her hand over the surface and muttered a few words of power, and the reflection rippled to show a figure cloaked in a dark hood.
The figure said nothing, but the faceless look spoke a clear question. She answered with a nod.
"It's time."
"This isn't lapses tonic," Older Merlin said as he took his medicine that night. His younger counterpart nodded.
"No. Well, there's some of that too, but… Gaius and I thought that, when we go out to find Eoran's hideaway in a few days, we might all be better off if we can share magic. It's borrower's brew."
Older Merlin looked up at himself even as he pulled his bedcovers up around himself. "Why give it to me now, then?"
"Time to get used to it again, you know, practice. Gaius was worried it might end up as a sort of tug-of-war over magic between us. Figured he'd give us some time to sort out a balanced system."
Merlin smiled. "Thoughtful of him, though I don't think that will be a problem. Either way, I won't complain about having magic again." He downed the potion, which wasn't nearly as vile tasting as the lapses tonic, and sighed as he felt it begin to seep into his system straightaway. "Ah, that's nice, really it is."
Younger Merlin smiled. "My magic is your magic," He said amiably and began clearing the tray away.
"It already was, in fact," Older Merlin rolled over in bed. "But… thank you, truly."
"It's odd to thank yourself, isn't it?"
"We'll always be odd."
Merlin snorted. "True. Goodnight, Merlin,"
"Goodnight, Merlin."
From the moment the borrower's potion started to take effect, Merlin could sense the staff in Arthur's room down the hall. He doubted Younger Merlin could sense it, because he wasn't used to it. But to Court Sorcerer Merlin, who'd walked with a staff for nearly five years, now, it was as familiar and as comforting as the sound of his own heartbeat. It was a constant but not demanding presence in the back of his mind, quietly resting somewhere, hidden away in Arthur's chambers where his younger self had hidden it earlier that evening. At peace, it's thrum lulling its sorcerer to sleep even doors down the castle halls.
And then, someone touched it.
It wasn't Arthur. It wasn't Merlin. It wasn't Freya or Balin or Guinevere or Raina or Gaius or any single person on the exhaustive list of familiars that ran through Merlin's groggy mind as a mental warning cry pulled him from his sleep. Something engrained deep in him recognized who it was, but he was so tired he didn't bother voicing the name before he was up and out of his room, down the hall and bursting through Arthur's bedroom door. When he arrived, his heart dropped.
A cloaked figure stood holding the staff out in front of itself, with a bed clothes-clad Arthur holding a useless sword in defense, backing away as the staff crackled. Without thinking, Merlin threw himself into the room and pulled Arthur back by his elbow, past and behind the warlock, who took up a protective stance like he would with his own son.
"Drop it," Merlin said, even though he knew it was useless. The magic in the staff crackled its protest against its wielder, but the cloaked figure hardly flinched as it turned to Merlin.
"So you've found your key, Emrys. I'm impressed. But did you really think I was going to stand by the wayside while you uncovered that which I've worked so hard for?" It was a woman's voice, and behind Merlin, Arthur's face grew slack with confusion and horror. The hooded head turned slightly to look at Arthur, and she seemed to be talking to herself as she said, "It would be so easy to just kill him right now." She walked towards them, staff growing excited with magic. Merlin knew that she would never be able to wield the staff as he could, but he did not doubt her ability to kill. He put an arm out to anchor Arthur safely behind him.
"You will not touch him,"
She hummed a mad laugh. "No, but this…" she gave a little wave with the staff, "I cannot say."
"Merlin," Arthur started to say,
"Arthur, you stay put."
"Oh, the boy prince under command of a serving boy." The cloaked one spat. "you always did have him like a dog at your feet, Emrys."
"I'm no one's dog," Arthur snapped,
"Drop the staff, Le Fey," Merlin growled.
"Ooh, all titles today, are we? Well then, Emrys, you've given your orders, now I'll give you mine:" Her voice grew steely and commanding "step out of from between me and my second prize, and I might not blast you through the heart."
"I'd like to see you try," he hissed.
"With the greatest pleasure," she raised the staff.
"Like hell you will," Arthur wrested himself from Merlin's grip.
"Arthur, stop!" Merlin lunged.
"Ábíetee-"
"Bordrand!" he tackled the prince, eyes flashing.
"-áflygennes!"
Magic crashed, blue against green, the world exploded and very suddenly, everything Merlin knew was silenced in an instant.
A/N:Oh, I missed writing cliffhangers.
Now I have to go write a research paper.
Well bother.
Hope you enjoyed it!